


Frost and Defrost

by HathorAroha



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: For the First Time in Forever, Gen, Sisterly Love, movie-canon, snow sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3383822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HathorAroha/pseuds/HathorAroha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the song "For the First Time in Forever", Elsa is having trouble with her practice for her coronation in the library when Anna comes in, quickly seeing the ice coating the fallen candlestick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frost and Defrost

Breathe, she told herself, just try to breathe.

Elsa stared up at the enormous painting of her father on his own Coronation Day. His eyes stared intently straight out of the painting, his expression sombre, befitting that of a king of Arendelle. His face betrayed no fear, not like hers. She wished she knew what he had been thinking on his Coronation Day, but whatever it was, it was certainly a lot less fearful and terrified than her own.

_How did Coronation day arrive so quickly?_

A shiver running up her spine, Elsa shifted her hands, clasping them together over her front skirts, feeling fabric rub against fabric. If only she could have put off Coronation Day until tomorrow—preferably for the rest of her life. If Anna had been born before her, how different would everything have turned out? Would Anna still be the same person she was now, or be more responsible and mature somehow?

_Would she be the Anna I know?_

Elsa closed her eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, her fear nagging at her heart.

_Conceal, don’t feel…_

Opening her eyes again, she met the painted gaze of her father on the wall.

“I…I can do this,” she whispered to the king’s portrait, “I will be a good queen. I will conceal, be the good girl you always wanted me to be.”

Silence—the king never moved, nor spoke, nor acknowledged in any way the new queen’s shaky whispers.

Her eyes drifted down to the table where a few knick-knacks and decorations sat idle. An empty candlestick holder and an orb-shaped jewellery box sat near the centre of the highly-polished wood.

_I can do this…don’t feel anything, just feel nothing._

Her throat tightened, stomach squeezing inside her. Her fingers trembled, but Elsa tried to force them to keep still.

_Feel nothing, feel nothing, conceal, don’t feel._

The mantra chanting in her head, Elsa strolled to the table, taking another deep inhalation in an effort to push down her fear, force it to curl up into a ball deep in some unreachable part of her consciousness.

Now her hands were inches from the candlestick and jewellery box—she was, by law, unable to practice with the actual sceptre and orb, since it was forbidden for them to be touched unless you were a coronated king or queen. Elsa stared at the orb and candlestick, trying to imagine they were the actual regalia. In only under an hour, she would be cradling the real spectre and orb in her palms, praying for ice and frost not to rattle and crack their way over their surfaces.

Heart purring in her ribcage, Elsa pushed away the image of icy regalia, and people’s horrified, disgusted faces and reactions.

_They’ll fear me if they know._

Carefully, Elsa pulled and tugged at her gloves until her hands were freed from the fabric. Laying them on the table between the candlestick and jewellery box, Elsa took another deep breath, trying but not quite succeeding in calming her agitated nerves.

 _I can do this,_ she persuaded herself, _I can conceal my curse. Pretend to be calm._

Quickly, before her courage quailed, Elsa grabbed the two ornaments, sweeping them off the table and turning around so her back faced the portrait of her father.

_Conceal, don’t feel!_

Elsa exhaled in relief as the first few seconds passed without the sound of crackling ice Nothing was going wrong, she was going to be okay—

Elsa looked down, breath hitching as she saw ice sprinting over the makeshift orb and spectre.

_No…no!_

Heart thundering, she quickly set them down, under the gaze of her late father. She could almost feel his disappointment prickling at her neck.

_I’m not ready._

A knock at the door, followed by someone jiggling the knob as they opened it, jolted her out of her disturbance. The door opened a hairline crack on its hinges as Elsa feverishly replaced her gloves on her hands. Only when a painfully familiar voice entered her ears did she then look to see who had opened the door.

“Elsa, are you in here?” Anna queried as she stepped inside, “Oh! Sorry to disturb you—”

She cut off her words with a shocked gasp, a sound at which Elsa’s heart stopped for a beat, and then began galloping in her ribcage.

_She sees. She knows._

Elsa clenched her hands tight as more ice tripped over the woodwork of the table and spread a fine layer of frost on the floor underneath, mocking her inability to contain her powers.

“Elsa?”

Elsa spun around, attempting to hide the table with her body and outstretched arms, only for one of her hands to knock the candlestick off the table, rolling onto the floor with a little bounce at Anna’s feet. She was sure her heart stopped right then as Anna’s eyes slowly looked down at her sister’s feet.

_Please don’t see the ice, please don’t see it…_

“Elsa…is that _ice?_ ” Anna exclaimed, her eyes sweeping up from the floor to dart over the veneer of frost crawling over the table and clinging on to the jewellery box. Elsa could feel more ice escaping through her gloves, spreading like spider-webs over the wood where her fingers touched. “How did you…I mean, is that…it’s coming from your hands?! How did I never know you had ice powers? I mean…you can do _magic_!”

Elsa’s shoulders slumped as she listened to Anna’s rambling, casting only the briefest of glances into Anna’s wide eyes before looking away.

_She’s afraid of me…_

“I mean…wow, I never knew you could do magic! I mean, _ice powers,_ Elsa!” Anna babbled as her eyes roamed over the table and floor under Elsa’s feet. “How did I never know that?” She paused, as though thinking something over. “Wait, wait…is this why you were shut away for all this time?”

Elsa gulped, but didn’t say a word—Anna, smart, clever Anna, had quickly figured out the reason why her older sister had shut herself out for thirteen years.

_She sees the monster in me. She knows I’m a monster…_

Anna met her gaze again, something like recognition and realisation set in her blue irises. Elsa’s arms now slumped to her sides, her body resting against the table, knowing she could no longer hide it now. Not now that Anna knew. But Elsa couldn’t understand why the surprise on Anna’s face was melting into one of delight and excitement.

“I don’t understand, Elsa—this is amazing!”

_Why now? Why did she have to come in?_

“W-why are you in here?” Elsa asked, voice quaking.

Anna shrugged, the smile still never wavering. “Thought I’d have a wander around the castle.” She looked at her quizzically, her smile fading now as she fully took in Elsa’s apprehension. “You okay, Elsa? You look terrified out of your mind.”

_Thanks Anna._

“I mean, of course you are, you’re about to be the _queen._ That’s pretty big.”

Elsa swallowed, her throat dry. She wished Anna would leave. Just go before her powers reached out to attack her little sister.

_I don’t want to hurt her again._

“I’m sort of glad _you’re_ going to be the queen—I’d probably end up accidentally invading our own country,” Anna giggled nervously, “Yeah, good thing you’re the queen.”

Elsa couldn’t do anything except nod, bringing her gloved hands up close to her chest, trying to press down her powers still threatening to burst from her. Her _curse_ , the same _curse_ that had hurt Anna so many years ago. Anna, who was so _sunny_ and _free_ —she didn’t have to be a queen, much less a queen with ice powers. She had no burdens on her shoulders like Elsa did.

“It’s okay, Elsa,” Anna mollified, “I don’t love you any differently—you’re still my sister. Here, I’ll get the candlestick for you.”

With a deep breath, Elsa held out a hand, not wanting Anna to come a step closer, for fear she would be hurt like she was so many years ago.

“I’ll get that,” Elsa insisted, bending down to retrieve the frosted candlestick in a shaking hand before Anna could move.

With candlestick now in hand, she stood up a little too fast, her head swimming for a moment as she turned sharply to replace the object on the table. As before, she turned back to Anna, hiding the candlestick, which once again fell over behind her as her hand knocked it. More ice crackled over the table.

_No, please, not now._

She couldn’t breathe, her head swimming with suffocating anxiety, feeling beads of sweat on her palm turn into a sheen of ice on her flesh.

“Please, Anna…” Elsa pleaded, “Just go now. I—I might hurt you.”

“No Elsa, it’s okay,” Anna attempted to soothe, “I know you’d never hurt me. I mean—I never knew you had _ice powers_. That’s actually kind of neat, you know.”

But Elsa shook her head.

“No Anna, it’s not.” Elsa disagreed, “It’s a curse.”

“What?” Anna stared at her, clearly confused. “How can it be a curse?”

Elsa closed her eyes, pushing down everything she was feeling, although her curse still rattled over the table’s woodwork. Once she had herself under control, she opened her eyes, looking back at Anna, surprised to see she wasn’t backing away with a look of horror on her face. On the contrary, she had actually taken a couple steps _closer_ —but still giving Elsa plenty of space—and curiosity, not fear, etched her face. If she knew the truth—that Elsa was a _monster_ —then Anna would not be so curious, so unafraid.

Elsa turned her head to look down at the table before her. She didn’t dare look up to meet her father’s disappointed gaze. He had told her to conceal, to hide from Anna, and the proverbial cat was out of its proverbial bag.

“It’s complicated.” Elsa explained, knowing full well Anna wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer.

She was right. Anna let loose a frustrated sigh.

“ _Elsa_ ,” Anna said, “You can tell me anything—and if it _is_ complicated, then help me to understand.”

Elsa wrapped her arms around herself, not meeting Anna’s eyes.

“It’s…dangerous. Too dangerous—you have to go,” she hated how her voice sounded so small, just as small as she felt right now.

“Look, Elsa, if there’s anything I can do, you just have to _ask_. I’m not afraid.”

Elsa felt she would snap at any moment, panic rising at Anna being so close—too close—to her. What if she hurt her again? She had to be afraid—anyone in their right mind would be rightfully terrified. Seeing Anna about to take another step, Elsa shook her head, stumbling back from the table, nearly stepping on her long cloak.

“Please, don’t come any closer,” Elsa begged, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Anna glanced down at the table now covered with a thick layer of frost. Elsa’s heart skipped a couple beats when she put out a hand to touch the smooth layer of ice, stroking it with just the tips of her fingers. Elsa clenched her eyes shut when she did that, opening one eye a smidgeon to see that Anna…

…was still fine, looking up at her with a small smile.

“See? I’m just fine,” Anna said, “It’s not hurting me, is it?”

_Not right now._

Elsa’s eyes travelled down Anna’s wrist to her hand, wanting so much to yank it away from the ice, but even this was not enough to overcome her fear of touching Anna. What if she hurt her again?

“Have you always had ice powers?” Anna asked now.

“Yes,” Elsa confirmed, looking down at her gloved hands, “Always.”

“Huh. Dunno why I don’t remember it.”

Elsa took a deep breath, trying to push back the horrible memories of _that_ night when her curse had struck Anna in the head, and the trolls removing any traces of recollections of Elsa’s powers. If Anna knew, she wouldn’t be so full of love for her older sister right now.

_She would hate me._

“I…don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Anna strolled up to Elsa, her expression understanding. “That’s okay, Elsa. If you’re not comfortable talking about the past right now, I can wait. Really.”

Elsa could feel cold now tingling at her fingertips, in her palms. She shifted away from the table and the portrait with its stifling gaze.

“It doesn’t matter,” Elsa insisted, “All that matters is that I’m…I’m a monster.”

“What?” Anna exclaimed. “How can you say that about yourself, Elsa? That’s a horrible thing to say about yourself.”

Elsa brought trembling fingers to her temples, walking away from Anna, the sound of ice crackling under her feet thundering in her ears. Her head swam, something squeezed her chest so she couldn’t breathe, and everything was going so horribly _wrong_ on her own coronation day. Now Anna had discovered the truth of her powers, why she had to hide away. Tears lurched into her eyes, and Elsa frantically tried to wipe them away so Anna wouldn’t see.

“Elsa?”

“Just go,” Elsa pleaded, “I’ll be fine.”

“No you’re not,” Anna declared, marching to Elsa, spinning around to face her. “Elsa, it’s okay to be scared—you’re not any less a queen for feeling terrified. I mean, I don’t know how _I’d_ be, but I probably would have fainted about eight times by now at the thought.”

Elsa kept looking at the floor, trying to move away, but Anna stepped in front of her again, blocking her path.

“Elsa, look at me, please,” Anna requested.

Resigned to the fact Anna was not about to give up, even so close to the coronation event, Elsa looked up at her sister.

“Now Elsa, I want you to say this after me, because I’m not going to hear you call yourself a monster again. Say after me—”

“No.” Elsa’s voice was hard, but she couldn’t look at Anna as she said it.

“I am not a monster. Say it after me, please.”

Elsa sighed, mumbling, “I am not a monster.”

“Like you mean it.”

“I am not a monster,” Elsa said louder, but not believing the words. Her heart ached to see how concerned Anna looked, how encouraging her words sounded.

_Easy for you to say._

“Excellent,” Anna approved, “Now listen to me—I have no idea why I don’t remember you having powers, but I know I have never stopped loving you, because you’re my _sister_ , and that means I’ll always be right here.” Anna placed a hand over her own heart. “I personally think your powers are beautiful. I mean—can you do snow too?”

Elsa nodded.

“Oh my God, Elsa, you can create snow too—imagine all the snowmen we could have built even in summer! I mean, I remember our favourite snowman,” Anna babbled, a smile unfurling on her lips, “I think we called him Olaf, didn’t we?”

Elsa couldn’t help a little smile tugging at her lips; Anna must have noticed, for her own grin only became warmer.

“Hey, you _can_ smile!” Anna teased good-naturedly, “You _do_ remember Olaf? I mean, I remember him being built outdoors, but…”

Elsa inhaled, trying to steady herself, “It was indoors.”

Anna squealed, “I knew it! I mean I didn’t _know_ know it, but I knew it! See Elsa? If you can create _snow_ , then you can create snowmen and snow angels, right?”

_How can she be so excited about this?_

“Anna…it doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous.”

“Well, I did once try to lick a frozen pole when I was nine, but yeah, so far, it’s definitely more fun than dangerous. Snow, I mean.”

Elsa didn’t know why, but she was starting to relax at least a little, something swelling inside her throat, tears prickling under her eyelids. Was that a smile pulling at her lips?

“See Elsa?” Anna continued, sweeping her arms wide, “You’re looking a lot less scared now. It’s going to be just _fine_ , and I’ll be there beside you when you’re crowned. I mean, _crowned_ , like finally, you’re the _queen_. My big sister, Elsa, a _queen_ today. And you’ll be a wonderful queen, I know. You won’t accidentally invade your own country, unlike me.”

Elsa clapped a hand over her mouth as the tiniest of giggles burst past her lips.

“And what if I did?” Elsa attempted to joke.

“Well, that’s why kings and queens have advisors, right? So that sort of thing doesn’t happen.” Anna tilted her head, eyes shining. “Was that a giggle I heard before?”

“What? No, no, of course not.”

“Yes it was,” Anna insisted, “I heard it.”

Another knock pounded at the door, Elsa jumping at the sound.

“Are we opening the gates yet?” a servant hinted.

_The gates…_

“I’ll be right there soon,” Elsa answered, now looking back at her sister, who was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“The gates!” Anna exclaimed, “Oh Elsa, this is going to be _wonderful_ —so many people!”

Elsa’s smile faded as a bubble of anxiety welled up inside her again, prickling at her neck. Anna seemed to notice and smiled encouragingly.

“You won’t be alone, Elsa,” Anna reassured, “I’ll be right there, okay? Promise. See you at the coronation soon. And Elsa?”

“Yes?”

“If you’re nervous, and I won’t fault you for it, just think of something good, something that helps you relax. It works for me anyway.”

With a little wave, Anna dashed out of the door, past the very surprised servant holding it open. With her entire attention focussed only on the servant and the other guards just outside the doors, Elsa never noticed that the candlestick, jewellery box, and table had all defrosted in the warmth of sisterly love that had just unfolded in the library.

 

 

Not much later, certainly under an hour later, Elsa stood before the bishop of Arendelle as the choir sung reverent words in the balcony above her. These words were solemn and yet somehow uplifting. Elsa wished she could listen to the choir all day, just allowing herself to sink into the lull of harmonious voices lifted in song. The bishop’s grave face didn’t change, remaining as stoic as ever, which did not help Elsa’s unease as the song rolled on. His eyes pierced her skull, as though he wanted to read her very thoughts, to see her well of anxiety.

_Conceal, don’t let him see…_

Now the bishop brandished the golden crown with its blue jewel set in its centre. Elsa stared at it.

_This is it…I’m the queen._

She kept her face stoic—something she had thirteen years of practice with—took a deep breath, and lowered her head to allow the bishop to place the crown in her hair. She closed her eyes as she bowed, trying to keep both powers and anxiety hidden. In that moment, somehow, she remembered Anna’s words of advice not much earlier in the library to try to think of something good. All she could see was Anna’s encouraging smile, and again, there was that lump in her throat, like she would begin to cry if she thought about that proud look in her sister’s eyes again.

The crown firmly donned on her head, now Elsa straightened up again as the bishop now brought forward the red cushion holding the real orb and sceptre of Arendelle with their crocus designs. Elsa’s breath hitched, gulping as she looked down at the golden regalia. Not an hour ago, she had seen ice encase a makeshift orb and spectre, and _now_ …here they were. The real thing. She was going to hold these as the crowd proclaimed her their new queen.

 _It’s now or never,_ she told herself, _take the regalia in your hands._

However, just as she began stretching out her fingers toward them, the bishop cleared his throat, breaking her concentration. She might have glared at him with a tadge of irritation in her irises.

_What is his issue?_

“Your Majesty…the gloves,” the bishop hinted.

She breathed sharp out of her nose, not hiding her irritation as she looked up at the grim bishop. But that irritation was quickly dashed away as it hit her: she had to remove the gloves. Staring down at her hands, she began to slowly remove the gloves from her hands, laying them between the two precious golden regalia. Elsa could see Anna in her peripheral vision looking at her. The queen cast a sideways glance at Anna, who was watching her with a little smile at one corner of her mouth. Elsa could tell she wanted to say something, but due to the nature of the setting, had to stay quiet. Nevertheless, the nod of encouragement bolstered Elsa’s own courage—enough, even if just a little—as she grasped orb and sceptre with her hands, feeling the coolness of the metal on her palms.

When Elsa turned around, she met the eyes of dozens of attendants to the queen’s coronation, all looking up with smiling eyes—well, not all of them, for one gent’s eyes were closed in sleep. Wealthy noblemen and women, a duke and duchess, and other important people had gathered here to witness her ordination as queen of all Arendelle. A thrill went through her as the whole congregation stood up in the presence of the newly-crowned queen.

“Queen Elsa of Arendelle!” the bishop proclaimed, his speech now finished.

“Queen Elsa of Arendelle!” the congregation chanted in return.

Elsa blinked as she chanced a glance down at her regalia, expecting to find frost lining the gold.

To her great surprise and relief, the gold remained frostless.

The small smile she bestowed on the reverent crowd was not so much one of happiness as it was one of immense relief.

There had been nothing to fear.

All was well.


End file.
